


The Cold Finds the Cracks in Your Door, The Shivers Will Always Come Back

by spuffyduds



Category: due South
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Angst, Community: ds_snippets, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2010-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Done for the prompts of center, trembling, glacial.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Cold Finds the Cracks in Your Door, The Shivers Will Always Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the prompts of center, trembling, glacial.

"Shit, _that's_ a little stalkery," Ray says.

"Hmmmm?"

He drops the envelope on his desk, tosses the paper he pulled from it into my lap; it's a strip of three pictures from an automated photobooth, and all the station noise fades to a distant roar. Top and bottom shots, she's looking at Ray; center square, she's looking at me. Smiling.

"I mean, I told her my name--s'why I kept talking to her, after she started chatting me up at this bar, 'cause when I said 'Ray Vecchio' she said _really_, and I thought, shit, she knows him, so I kept talking trying to find out, but it was one of those 'You don't look Italian" _reallies_, no worries."

"None," I say. I'm trembling. He has not yet noticed. They're beautiful photos, really. Light and dark. Him pretending to be someone else. Her pretending to believe him. Pretending to be human.

"Told her I was a cop, but didn't tell her where, so she musta done some research, to send it here. Kinda creepy," he says.

"Yes." He blinks at me, doubtless thrown by my sudden terseness. My fingertips are going numb.

"We had some drinks," he says. "I was surprised she went for the photo thing--seemed kinda goofball for her. She was, I dunno, chilly."

"Glacial."

"Wouldn't go _that_ far," he says, and narrows his eyes at me. "You okay?"

And I'm not, because that isn't far _enough_ for her cold patience, waiting until I thought I was safe, thought I could perhaps touch someone again, almost deserved it, was nearly allowed to.

"She's an ice age," I say, and laugh, and it must sound wrong, because Ray is at my side, saying "Frase?" and touching my cheek, hand warm and rough and _touching_ and impossibly far away.


End file.
